John Saward – February 20, 2017 at 07:41AM

I read a book a couple of years ago.

Before, I read about 3 or 4 every week. I read mountains of stuff every day online.

I rarely watch TV, or video, haven’t been in a cinema in years, don’t download ebooks or PDFs, have little desire to be entertained by a contiguous mind stepping me through a long sequence of scenes and characters and plot development. I love grazing.

Don’t miss the substantial literary meals I used to take. There is so much online. I have about maybe 50 books left in the house. I rarely notice or touch them. They used to be my pride and joy.

I knew myself as a long distance reader. I buried myself in the world created by a writer just for me.

My life is so full I don’t need books now. I suppose some will pity me for that.

My own books develop slowly. If they are not published before I die so be it. I deliver bits and pieces.

Life goes on. Magnificently some days. In futility some days. Its all to be written about. But a writer is not constrained to a book.

Status updates are literature. Yes, Mavis they are.


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